


Parrishable

by Stydia (Zady)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2208573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zady/pseuds/Stydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parrish comes home one night feeling distant and looking like he's been in a fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parrishable

You feel a kiss on your forehead. Slowly you shift, not wanting to fully awaken.

“What time is it?” you mutter.

“Shh. Go back to sleep,” Jordan whispers.

You peer through your closed lids. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah everything’s fine. Just a late night at work.”

You notice Jordan isn’t wearing his uniform. You sit up, more awake now, and fully open your eyes. “What happened to your clothes?”

His eyes blaze slightly. “Nothing.” His words leave no room for argument.

Despite his stern tone you can’t help but run your eyes down his exquisite body. As you look at him, his gaze softens slightly. “Sorry babe. I just had a bad day at work.”

“Why don’t you come and sit down next to me and tell me about it.” Jordan moves around to your side of the bed. He sits down. “There’s the booty I fell in love with. Debooty Parrish,” you tease. The sound of his familiar nickname brings a slight smile to his lips. Even that small adjustment changed his face from stormy to gorgeous.

You run your hand over his arms and up along to his shoulders. He sits in silence, watching your every move. You run your hand over his shoulders and up to the back of his neck. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?” You pout.

He smiles a slow smile. You can almost feel the heat radiating off him. “I would but your hands are so distracting.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

He considered this. Almost as if he was seized by some darker, primal impulse, he grabs you and kisses you.

At first it’s rough. You are almost shocked by then intensity of it. As he deepens the kiss you can sense his need. _His need for what?_ you wonder. _His need for you or his need to forget?_   You become acutely aware that he isn’t wearing any clothes. None at all.

Parrish tugs at the hem of your pyjama top. Without breaking the kiss you raise your arms to let him pull your shirt off. He leans back from you, taking in the full view. “You are so hot. How did I manage to get someone like you?”

“Just lucky I suppose,” you tease. That’s the last thing you say before your lips are occupied with trailing kisses along his muscular chest. You hear his breathing hitch as he runs his hands downwards.

You draw back.

“What’s wrong?”

“You taste like fire and ash and gasoline.”

“I could take your mind off it.” His grin is sly. You lean up to kiss his lips again. As you run his hands through his hair you notice dark soot marking your hands.

Despite his wandering hands you pull back and shake your head.

“I could have a shower?” he suggested.

You continue to shake your head, knowing that if you gave in neither of you would be able to help yourselves. “What happened?”

He hesitates. You can tell when he’s being evasive. But what you want to know is why.

“What is it?” you press.

“It’s nothing… just work… I-“

“Jordan,” you warn.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His voice cracks and you look at him carefully. Your eyes lock on his beautiful ones, just shades from being the perfect fanfiction green. Finally you see the pain and hurt and confusion that has been lurking there.

You sit cross legged on the bed facing him. You hold his hands in yours. “There’s nothing wrong with you. What are you talking about?” You squeeze his hand gently to let him know you’re there for him.

“One of the guys at work set me on _fire_. For money. Someone is paying people to kill me. And yet I’m still alive. Why?” he asks you this desperately, as if you might know the answers.

You feel a chill run across you as you realise how close the love of your life comes to death every single night that he’s out on duty. You fear for him, but it’s only since you came to this town that you’ve noticed how many close encounters have happened.

He runs a hand through his hair. “My hair isn’t burnt. I don’t have charred skin or even any red markings. There's just ash to show what happened to me tonight when I was left for dead.”

“You escaped?” you whisper.

He shakes his head slowly. “No, that’s the thing. I _should_ have died! There is no reason why I’m still alive right now.”

“But you are, and that’s all that’s important,” you try to comfort him. “Go have a shower and get some rest.”

“I _can’t_ rest. My mind is racing… I don’t know what to do.” You watch as he stands up. You dip back down into the bed as the springs react to the change in weight.

He paces the room. You carefully watch his anxious face. He stops pacing and you can tell he’s made up his mind. Oblivious to the fact that he is wearing no clothes and had the expression of a madman Jordan walks over to the door and pushed it open. You scramble over, following him down the hall in your pyjama pants.

He pushes open the front door and jogs into the night, not even wincing as the sharp rocks dug into his feet.

It’s pointless to follow him. He was so fast and all you were wearing is your pyjama pants. You watch helplessly for a moment before turning around and heading back inside. You slide back into bed and struggle to fall asleep. When you finally do it is restless and sporadic and you wake up feeling tired.

Jordan Parrish was still not back by morning.

 

 


End file.
